ADDRESS  OF  MAJOR  JOSEPH  B.  CUMMING 

ON  OCCASION  OF  CELEBRATION  OF  MUNICIPAL  CENTENNIAL  OF 
THE  CITY  OF  AUGUSTA. 

One  hundred  years  ! A century  ! How  great  ! How  small  ! 
What  a mere  span  compared  with  the  life  of  the  human  race,  even 
when  measured  by  the  Mosaic  account  which  attributes  only  six 
thousand  years  to  man’s  presence  on  this  planet  ! What  a mere 
needle’s  point  beside  those  eons,  which  in  the  belief  of  the  learned 
of  this  age  have  elapsed  in  the  building  of  the  everlasting  hills,  in 
fixing  the  shores  of  old  ocean,  in  hollowing  the  river’s  rock-bound 
beds  ! Oh,  the  littleness  of  a hundred  years,  measured  by 
the  great  facts  of  nature,  which  represent  time  too  long  for 
our  minds  to  grasp  or  our  thoughts  to  hold  ! Even  in  our  habits 
of  thought,  we  belittle  a century  soon  after  it  has  drifted  back 
into  the  boundless  past.  We  are  apt,  for  instance,  to  think  of 
William  the  Conqueror  and  Richard  the  Dion  Hearted  as  practically 
contemporaries  ; yet  a century  and  more  rolled  between  them. 
Coming  down  nearly  to  our  own  times,  we  are  prone,  of  course  in  a 
careless  way,  to  regard  our  original  thirteen  states  as  belonging  to 
the  same  period.  Yet  between  the  oldest  and  the  youngest  there 
was  a stretch  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  years.  How  little  is 
a century  ! And  yet  how  great  ! A single  one  of  many  solemn 
facts  attests  its  greatness.  In  its  course  it  removes  from  beneath 
the  sun  and  the  stars,  from  under  the  bending  sky,  from  city  and 
from  country,  from  hill  and  field,  from  the  banks  of  rivers  and 
from  the  riverless  prairies,  from  the  ocean’s  shores  and  from  the 
ocean’s  waves — from  every  habitation  and  haunt  of  man,  it  re- 
moves, by  the  time  it  has  run  its  course,  every  mortal  whom  it 
found  at  its  beginning.  If  nothing  else  could  be  said  of  the  great- 
ness of  a century  than  that  it  sweeps  aivay  before  its  close  every 
mortal  it  found  at  its  opening,  w7e  would,  say  great  and  awful  is  a 
century  of  time  ! 

While  any  subject  might  be  selected  for  my  discourse  without 
violating  any  express  condition  of  my  commission  to  speak  to  you 
on  this.  Centennial  occasion,  I feel,  nevertheless,  that  there  is  an 
implied  undertaking  on  m37  part  to  make  Augusta  my  theme. 

When  I approach  it,  I find  myself  perplexed  in  deciding  how  to 
deal  with  it.  Shall  I transport  myself,  in  imagination  and  by  the 


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aid  of  records,  to  that  point  in  Augusta’s  history,  the  centennial  of 
which  we  are  here  to  celebrate,  and  I live  for  a time  only  in  it  ? 
Shall  I,  by  the  aid  of  traditions  and  of  contemporaneous  documents, 
and  confining  myself  to  the  one  point  of  view,  present  a sketch  of 
the  place  and  its  people  as  they  were  then  ? This  were  easy  and 
safe  but  meagre.  Or  shall  I endeavor  to  lead  you  down  the  path  of 
a century  through  all  the  story  ? This  were  long  and  tedious.  In- 
deed, the  subject  is  one  which  I find  difficult  and  tiresome,  for  it 
holds  nothing  of  thrilling,  soul-stirring  interest. 

I trust  that  none  of  my  hearers  have  come  here  expecting  any- 
thing like  a consecutive  and  detailed  historical  sketch  of  Augusta. 
To  any  such  I must  say  at  the  outset  that  their  expectations  will 
not  be  fulfilled.  I shall  not  say  that  they  will  be  disappointed,  for 
nothing,  me  thinks,  could  be  more  interesting,  even  to  the  degree 
of  dreariness,  than  a minute  recital  of  the  uneventful  history  of  a 
small  town  during  the  course  of  a hundred  years.  Such  is  the 
drama  of  human  life,  that  in  no  year  of  the  hundred  have  there  not 
been  episodes  and  experiences  of  more  absorbing  interest  to  the 
actors  therein  than  the  history  of  wars  or  famine  or  pestilence  or 
any  of  the  tragedies  in  the  lives  of  States.  But  their  interest  lived 
and  died  with  the  actors  in  them,  the  memory  of  them  has  perished, 
and,  even  if  it  could  be  revived,  it  would  invoke  no  interest  from  the 
living  of  today,  absorbed,  as  they  are,  by  the  concerns  of  the  all 
exacting  present.  Certainly,  too,  there  have  lived  in  Augusta  in 
the  century,  the  close  of  which  we  are  now  celebrating,  citizens  in 
all  walks  of  life,  in  all  its  avocations,  of  peace  and  of  war,  of  whom 
any  city  may  be  proud.  But  if  I should  undertake  to  speak  of 
them,  what  could  I do  in  the  compass  of  this  occasion  but  present 
to  you  a catalogue  of  names  ? Homer  could  make  a catalogue  inter- 
esting and  even  poetic,  as  when,  in  the  close  of  the  second  book  of 
the  Iliad,  he  gives  a list  of  the  ships  that  sailed  from  Greece  and 
her  islands  and  the  men  they  carried  to  the  siege  of  Troy,  and  called 
the  long  roll  of  the  defenders  of  that  devoted  city.  But  a less  than 
Homer  should  not  undertake  such  a feat. 

The  way,  in  part  at  least,  in  which  I shall  endeavor  to  comply 
with  the  expectations  of  the  occasion,  will  be  to  present  to  you  pic- 
tures of  Augusta  at  various  periods  of  her  history,  and,  as  if  a 
hundred  years  were  not  field  enough,  I will  go  back  to  her  very 
origin  one  hundred  and  sixty-three  5*ears  ago. 


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The  first  thing  to  do  for  the  infant  then  just  beginning  to  live  was 
to  name  it,  and  the  loyal  Oglethorpe  gave  her  the  name  of  the  Prin- 
cess Augusta. ' Augusta,  unlike  some  of  her  neighbors,  has  not  been 
moved  to  change  her  name  bestowed  by  her  father  in  her  infancy- 
Atlanta,  for  instance,  commenced  life  as  “Marthasville.”'  - Of  course 
she  could  not  be  expected  to  tolerate  long  so  plain  a name  as  that, 
sure  to  be  corrupted  into  “ Marthysville.”  Its  rusticity  could  not 
comport  with  the  fine  airs  and  metropolitan  ways  she  was  soon  taking 
on.  She  must  have  a name  suggestive  of  greatness,  vastness, 
expansion  as  wide  as  ocean  or  at  any  rate  as  far  as  to  the  shores  of 
ocean.  Think  of  the  great  and  brilliant  “ Gate  City”  covering  all 
her  glory  with  the  name  of  “Marthysville  !”  But  Augusta,  whether 
because  her  name  had  been  chosen  more  wisely  at  the  first  or 
because  she  is  proverbably  conservative  and  slow,  has  been  satisfied 
to  retain  the  name  she  received  from  her  sponsors  in  baptism. 

Let  us  take  a glimpse  of  this  infant  in  her  cradle.  The  striking 
feature  of  the  little  Augusta  was  then,  as  it  is  now  and  ever  will  be 
while  waters  seek  the  sea,  the  noble  river  which  bathes  her  northern 
limits.  Not  only  was  it  and  is  it  and  ever  will  be  it,  her  great  fea- 
ture, but  it  was  her  cause.  Because  a water  highway  could  connect 
her  with  Savannah  and  thence  with  the  mother  country  and  the 
world,  Augusta  came  into  existence.  How  beautiful  was  her 
tutelary  river  then  ! The  axe  had  not  denuded  its  banks.--  The 
plowshare  had  not  reduced  its  hillsides  to  red  powder  to  stain  forever 
its  then  crystal  waters.  The  willow  and  the  reed  dipped  into  its 
stream  on  either  bank,  lining  with  emerald  both  sides  of  an  unpol- 
luting conduit  for  its  waters.  Noble  forests  came  down  to  its  very 
edge  and  spread  their  shade  far  over  its  bed.  Between  such  banks 
and  in  such  shadow  flowed  a vast  volume  of  water,  clear  and  cold 
as  the  springs  from  which  they  took  their  source.  Over  rapids  the 
beautiful  river  came  with  a roar,  or  through  long  stretches  it  flowed 
in  impressive  silence.  But  ever,  in  roar  or  in  silence,  the  same 
clear  limpid  water,  a suggestion  of  which  is  given  us  dwellers  in 
this  age  sometimes  in  a long  autumnal  drought,  but  the  perfect 
beauty  of  which  is  lost  forever.  In  this  glorious  stream  abounded 
such  fish  as  rejoice  in  clear  waters.  The  fresh  water  mussel,  to 
which  mud  is  death,  was  found  in  myriads,  furnishing  food  for 
man,  and  a pearl  of  no  mean  beauty  as  an  ornament — for  woman. 
No  wonder  that  the  Indian  haunted  the  shores  of  this  magnificent 
river  as  of  a Pactolus,  a river  of  gold  for  all  his  wants.  Not  strange 


4 


that  along  its  banks  the  school  boy  still  finds  the  frequent  Indian 
arrow  head.  No  wonder  that  the  archologist  unearths  on  its  islands 
the  populous  Indian  burying  ground — for  where  men  live  their 
graves  soon  outnumber  their  habitations. 

The  existence  of  the  rapids  a few  miles  northwest  of  this  spot, 
presenting  an  impassible  barrier  to  further  navigation  of  the  river, 
except  by  the  canoe  of  the  Indian,  determined  the  general  site  of 
town.  The  high  bluff,  emerging  here  from  the  alluvial  lowlands, 
decided  its  particular  location. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  was  this  settlement  made  at  all  at  that 
period  ? There  were  thousands  of  square  miles  and  millions  of 
acres  of  fertile,  finely  watered  and  nobly  timbered  lands  between 
Savannah  and  this  bluff  below  the  rapids,  sufficient  to  provide  the 
increasing  population  for  generations  with  ample  farms  and  planta- 
tions. Why  was  this  extensive  intervening  region  left  unpeopled 
by  the  white  man  ? 

Again,  what  was  to  be  the  business  of  this  isolated  and  remote 
settlement  ? 

Both  questions  may  receive  one  and  the  same  answer.  It  was  the 
trade  with  the  Indians.  Pelfry,  skin  of  every  kind,  including  even 
that  of  the  buffalo,  which  were  in  those  days  a not  distant  neighbor 
to  the  spot  where  we  are  now  assembled,  was  the  staple  of  a brisk 
trade  with  the  aborigines.  I read  in  the  sketch  -which  our  fellow 
townsman,  Mr.  John  North,  has  lent  me,  of  the  half-breed  German 
Cherokee  Indian,  Se-quo-yah,  or  George  Gist  : “ Augusta  was  the 
great  center  'of  this  commerce,  which  in  those  days  were  more  ex- 
tensive than  would  be  now  believed.  Flatboats,  barges  and  pirogues 
floated  the  bales  of  pelf  to  tide  water.  Above  Augusta  trains  of 
pack  horses,  sometimes  numbering  one  hundred,  gathered  in  the 
furs  and  carried  goods  to  and  from  remote  regions.” 

While  there  was  a strong  element  of  romance  and  adventure  in 
this  trade,  the  threading  of  the  primeval  forests  bjr  mere  paths,  the 
constant  association  with  nature  presenting  here  a novel  and  virgin 
aspect,  the  floating  down  a beautiful  stream  of  limpid  waters  be- 
tween banks  covered  with  noble  and  variegated  growth,  gorgeous 
with  flowers  and  musical  with  the  song  of  birds— so  different  from 
the  dusty  beaten  paths  of  commerce  in  this  prosaic  day,  alas ! 

I fear  that  these  sentimental  features  of  the  situation  had  no  effect 
on  the  keen  traders  of  that  day.  Trade  is  trade.  Its  ultimate 
objective  is  money  making.  It  is  successful  only  wheu  it  brings 


5 


profits.  It  is  most  successful  when  its  profits  are  greatest.  Primi- 
tive nature,  grand  forests,  noble  rivers,  song  birds,  the  jasmine,  the 
wild  honeysuckle,  the  bay  and  magnolia  about  its  paths  do  not 
modify  its  essential  spirit.  So  we  find  our  trader,  who  gave  import- 
ance to  infant  Augusta,  plying  his  avocation  not  for  the  romance 
which  in  that  age  accompanied  it,  but  for  colossal  profits.  I read  in 
the  same  sketch  as  follows  : “ The  trader  immediately  in  connection 
with  the  Indian  hunter  expected  to  make  one  thousand  per  cent. 
The  wholesale  dealer  made  several  hundred.  The  governors,  coun- 
cils and  superintendents  made  all  they  could.  It  could  scarcely  be 
called  commerce.  It  was  a grab  game.” 

History  repeats  itself  ! The  poor  Indian  was  the  real  producer  in 
this  business.  With  tireless  foot,  with  scanty  food,  with,  at  the 
first  at  least,  ineffective  weapons  of  the  chase,  in  sunshine  and 
storm,  through  forest  and  across  streams,  b}r  day  and  by  night,  he 
pursued  the  beasts  of  the  woods.  His  labor,  his  fatigue,  his  hunger, 
his  privation,  at  last  have  the  reward  of  a skin  stripped  from  the 
deer  or  the  buffalo.  More  weary  leagues  to  get  his  pelf  to  the  trader. 
There  the  fruit  of  the  toil  and  danger  of  the  chase  is  exchanged  for 
a few  colored  beads,  a yard  of  cheap  calico,  or  at  most  a few  ounces 
of  powder  and  a scanty  weight  of  lead,  and  the  trader  has  closed  a 
transaction — ‘‘made  a deal” — which  pays  him  one  thousand  per 
cent,  profit. 

Thus  history  repeats  itself.  Then,  as  now,  trade  furnished 
greater  rewards  than  production.  Then,  as  now,  the  producer 
toiled  for  its  benefit  more  than  for  his  own. 

The  chapter  in  Augusta’s  history  which  I have  thus  far  consid- 
ered, extended  from  its  first  settlement  in  1735  to  the  outbreak  of 
the  Revolution.  During  this  period  it  grew  steadily,  but  its  popu- 
lation even  at  the  end  of  the  period  was  probably  not  high  up  in  the 
hundreds. 

If  anything  of  man’s  work  of  this  first  period  remains,  I do  not 
know  it,  except  a few  streets  and  their  names,  Centre,  Broad,  Ellis, 
and  Reynolds. 

The  Revolutionary  history  of  Augusta  is  most  interesting.  But 
I shall  not  dwell  on  it,  for  the  reason  that  less  than  a year  ago  at 
this  same  place,  and  in  the  hearing  of  substantially  this  same  audi- 
ence, an  eminent  citizen  of  the  State  delivered  a most  eloquent  and 
exhaustive  oration  on  that  subject.  Nothing  of  interest,  whether 
of  matter  or  style,  of  form  or  of  substances,  could  be  added  to  that 


6 


masterly  presentation  by  Hon.  Emory  Speer.  It  was  heard  by  you 
at  the  time  with  deep  interest,  and  doubtless  abides  fresh  and  vivid 
in  your  memory.  I shall  only  say  in  passing  that  the  little  town 
witnessed  deeds  of  valor  by  friends  and  foe  not  surpassed  oh  more 
imposing  theatres.  It  also  witnessed  acts  of  barbarity,  not  only  by 
Indian  allies,  but  b}^  men  of  our  own  race,  not  outdone  by  the 
alleged  horrors  of  the  Cuban  war.  For,  my  hearers,  war  is  war, 
war  is  cruel,  war  is  barbarous,  war  makes  fiends  of  men,  whether 
they  be  Spanish  or  Anglo-Saxon,  whether  they  strike  for  conquest 
or  for  freedom,  whether  they  fight  to  impose  or  to  shake  the  yoke. 

The  next  division  in  the  history  of  Augusta  covers  the  years  be- 
tween the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  war  and  the  end  of  the 
century.  I shall  call  this  the  “ Tobacco  Age.”  Up  to  the  war,  it 
may  be  said  with  substantial  accuracy,  that  the  life  of  Augusta,  its 
reasons  to  exist,  wras  the  Indian  trade.  The  little  agriculture  which 
existed  near  and  around  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  home  support. 
Nothing  left  it  for  export  except  the  peculiar  yield  of  the  forest. 
Nothing  came  to  it  from  beyond  the  woods  seaward,  but  the  articles 
to  be  exchanged  for  these  sylvan  products  and  a few  staples  for 
consumption  by  its  meager  population  and  on  a few  outlying,  not 
distant  plantations.  But  by  the  end  of  the  Revolutionary  war  the 
yield  of  the  forest  had  greatly  diminished.  Its  denizens  them- 
selves were  fewer.  They  were  already  feeling  the  pressure  of 
deadly  civilization,  and,  depressed  in  spirit,  were  retiring  towards 
the  setting  sun.  The  red  man  was  still  not  an  infrequent  figure  in  the 
little  town.  The  deer  skin— but  no  longer  the  buffalo  robe — Indian 
ponies  and  various  simple  articles  of  Indian  handiwork  were  still 
brought  to  Augusta  for  sale  or  barter.  But  this  commerce  had 
shrunken  to  a very  slender  rivulet  compared  with  the  great  stream 
which  a few  years  earlier  had  flowed  through  the  little  town.  But 
now,  first  to  supplement  and  then  to  replace  this  waning  traffic, 
came  the  tobacco  business.  As  we  are  informed  by  that  conscien- 
tious and  accurate  historian,  who  to  our  great  sorrow  departed  from 
our  midst  a few  years  ago,  Charles  Colcock  Jones,  the  settlers  from 
Virginia  brought  them  the  seed  and  the  cultivation  of  this  plant. 
The  industry  soon  attained  in  soil  and  climate  admirably  adapted  to 
it,  large  'and  flourishing  proportions.  Government  tobacco. ware- 
houses were  established  at  various  points  in  the  interior  of  the  State 
west  and  northwest  of  Augusta,  and  were  presided  over  by  govern- 
ment inspectors.  To  these  warehouses  the  tobacco  was  brought  by 


7 


the  producers  of  the  contiguous  country,  was  inspected,  weighed 
and  packed  in  hogsheads,  all  under  °overmnental  supervision.  The 
market  where  this  tobacco  was  to  pass  from  the  hands  of  the  pro- 
ducer into  the  hands  of  the  merchant  was  Augusta.  How  did  it 
make  the  journey  from  the  interior  warehouse  to  this  mart?  Some 
of  it,  in  districts  contiguous  to  the  Savannah,  floated  down  the  river 
in  boats,  the  percursors  of  the  Petersburg  merchantmen  of  the 
present  day.  But  the  most  of  it  made  the  trip  in  a mode  which,  as 
far  as  my  knowledge  goes,  was  peculiar  to  this  trade  and  absolutely 
unique.  The  day  of  pack  horses,  sufficient  for  the  transportation  of 
loads  of  small  bulk  but  comparatively  large  value,  as  pelfry,  was 
passed.  The  wagon  roads  of  the. country  were  few.  The  wagons 
themselves  were  not  numerous.  So,  as  Col.  Jones  tells  us,  “the 
hogshead  or  cask  being  made  strong  and  tight  and  having  been 
stoutly  coopered,  was  furnished  with  a temporary  axle  and  shafts 
to  which  a horse  was  attached.  By  this  means  it  was  trundled 
over  the  country  roads  to  market. 

Thus  for  a while  Augusta  was,  as  greatness  went  in  that  day, 
a great  tobacco  market,  and  whether  nurtured  by  skins  or  tobacco 
it  continued  to  grow.  Under  the  conditions  of  transportation  of 
that  age  it  could  not  but  grow.  A navigable  river  flowing  past  its 
doors  to  the  ocean  gave  it  an  immeasurable  advantage  over  any 
place  not  similarly  situated.  What  would  have  become  of  poor 
little  “ Marthysville  ” having  no  river,  without  the  railroads?  But 
the  lordly  Savannah  was  to  Augusta  as  the  Thames  to  London,  the 
Tiber  to  Rome,  and  the  Nile  to  all  Egypt.  So,  by  the  end  of  the 
century  Augusta  had  grown  to  be  a very  flourishing  town  of  about 
2,000  inhabitants. 

It  was  in  this  tobacco  age,  but  when  it  was  waning,  and  at  the 
opening  of  the  next  period,  which  I shall  call  the  cotton  age,  that 
the  event  occurred  of  which  we  are  now  celebrating  the  iooth  anni- 
versary. In  Januarjq  1798,  the  Legislature  incorporated  the  free- 
holders residing  in  a certain  area,  which  may  be  roughly  described 
as  lying  between  the  river  on  the  north  and  Telfair  street  on  the 
south,  and  between  Elbert  and  Marbury  streets  on  the  east  and 
west.  The  charter  then  granted  has  never  been  repealed.  We  live 
under  it  at  this  day.  Movements  have  been  made  from  time  to  time 
of  late  years  to  substitute  a new  charter  for  this  venerable  instru- 
ment; but  they  have  come  to  uought.  It  has  been  built  upon  and 
enlarged  in  some  particulars  to  meet  the  wants  of  a later  civilization, 


8 


but  in  its  essential  parts  it  remains  as  it  was  in  the  beginning.  A 
most  liberal  and  comprehensive  “general  welfare’’  clause,  which 
provided; -“  The  said  City  Council  shall  also  be  vested  with  full 
power  and  authority  to  make  such  assessments  on  the  inhabitants 
of  Augusta,  or  those  who  have  taxable  property  within  the  same, 
for  the  safety,  benefit  and  convenience  of  said  city,  as  shall  appear 
to  them  expedient,”  has  served  the  city  a good  turn  on  many  an 
occasion,  when  progress  in  public  works  would  otherwise  have 
been  arrested  for  lack  of  some  specific  authority  from  the  Legisla- 
ture to  the  City  Council.  But  this  provision  of  the  charter  has 
lost  much  of  its  beneficent  elasticity  since  the  constitution  of  1877. 

I trust  that  this  audience  will,  at  this  point  in  my  remarks,  per- 
mit me  the  indulgence  of  a gratified  feeling  by  reminding  them  that 
the  first  executive  of  the  cityq  intendent,  as  that  official  was  then 
called,  inaugurated  on  the  occasion  which  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
one  hundred  years,  we  are  celebrating,  was  my  grandfather, 
Thomas  Cumming.  Then  just  completing  his  thirty- third  year,  for 
thirty-six  years  thereafter  he  resided  in  Augusta,  leading  and  closing 
here  a life  which,  I trust  I may  be  pardoned  for  speaking  of  as  that 
of  the  good  and  just  man,  “vir  integer  vitae  scelerisque  purus,”  the 
good  citizen,  seeking  no  office,  but  avoiding  no  public  dutj-.  He 
was  not  only  the  first  intendent  of  the  city;  he  was  also  the  presi- 
dent of  its  bank,  and  held  that  office  from  the  foundation  of  the 
bank  until  his  death  in  1834,  the  old  Bank  of  Augusta,  chartered 
in  1810,  and  pursuing  its  honorable  and  prosperous  career  until 
swept  away,  like  so  many  hitherto  solid  institutions,  by  the  great 
war  between  the  states.  If  a breath  of  reproach  ever  attached  to 
the  name  of  this  good  citizen,  it  has  not  reached  the  ears  of  his 
descendants  of  this  day,  who  still  in  the  fifth  generation  cherish 
his  memory'  and  seek  in  it  inspiration  for  unambitious  and  faithful 
citizenship. 

The  next  period  in  the  history^  of  Augusta  I shall  call  the 
“Cotton  Age”  by  the  opening  of  the  century,  near  whose  close 
we  are  now  standing,  the  cotton  gin  had  come  into  common  use. 
With  climate  and  soil  adapted  the  best  in  the  world  to  the  cultiva- 
tion ofr  cotton,  with  this  product  itself  more  universally  adapted 
than  any  other  to  all  the  uses  for  which  cloth  is  needed,  whose 
place  in  preceding  periods  was  supplemented  and  inadequately  sup- 
plied by  the  fabrics  of  wool  and  flax  and  silk,  its  cultivation  had 
been  discouraged  previously  by  the  impracticability  of  separating 


9 


the  fibre  from  the  seed.  Where  this  result  was  effected  at  all  it  was 
accomplished  slowly,  laboriously,  expensively  and  scantily  by  hand. 
Whitney’s  cotton  gin  produced  a stupendous  industrial  revolution. 
It  is  a fact  of  no  small  interest  in  connection  with  the  history  of 
Augusta  that  Whitney  manufactured  his  gins  at  a little  factory,  the 
power  of  which  was  furnished  by  the  little  Rocky  Creek  on  the 
plantation  of  the  late  Mr  John  Phinizy,  now  almost  included  in  the 
present  boundaries  of  the  city. 

At  once  the  kingdom  of  a new  and  great  monarch,  King  Cotton, 
rose  to  power.  Practically  all  the  cultivable  land  in  Georgia  and 
Carolina  was  speedily  embraced  in  his  wide  domain.  The  compara- 
tively feeble  forces  of  tobacco  and  indigo  were  promptly  subdued 
and  banished  into  the  unreturning  past.  This  great  potentate  made 
rapid  and  extensive  inroads  on  the  primeval  forest.  In  the  service 
of  this  great  king  roads  were  opened;  and  at  the  right  season  of 
the  year,  in  the  beautiful  autumnal  weather,  when  the  skies  were 
at  their  bluest,  when  the  air  held  a light  haze,  softening  and 
mellowing  the  landscape,  when  the  forests  were  glorious  in  their 
robes  of  the  turning  leaf,  these  roads  were  crowded  with  the  royal 
progress  of  the  king  from  the  interior  of  his  realm  to  the  great 
outer  world.  Right  merrily  did  his  majesty  descend  from  his  rural 
seats  to  his  busy  mart.  In  those  days,  when  the  railroad  was  not, 
fine,-  teams  of  mules  were  the  motive  power  of  land  transpor- 
tation. Great  care  was  taken  in  their  selection  and  pride  felt  in 
their  equipment.  A part  of  the  equipment  was  a bow  cf  bells, 
raised  high  over  the  withers  of  at  least  the  leaders  of  even-  team. 
These  were  not  the  dull  little  tinklers  of  the  horse  car,  heard  only 
when  that  now  almost  obsolete  affair  is  close  upon  the  foot  passen- 
ger; but  bells — bells  that  rang  loud,  clear  and  musical  on  the  still 
autumnal  air.  And  thus,  with  music  along  his  route,  coming  up 
from  the  valleys  and  resounding  from  hill  top  to  hill  top,  King 
Cotton  came  marching  down. 

Ret  us  pause  here  and  unroll  a map  of  this  period  before  our 
mental  vision.  Our  map  shall  have  no  regard  for  State  lilies.  It 
will  be  in  the  form  of  nearly  half  of  a circular  disc,  whose  base  line 
shall  run  through  Augusta  as  its  centre.  This  half  circle  shall  have 
a radius  of  200  miles,  and  shall  sweep  around  the  city*  from  a point 
200  miles  northeast  of  it  to  a point  200  miles  southwest.  Through- 
out this  region  cotton  is  raised.  In  this  truly  vast  area  where  is 


IO 


there  a cotton  market  but  Augusta?  Atlanta,  Macon,  Columbus, 
Chattanooga,  Athens  were  unborn.  Where  could  the  cotton  come 
for  a market  but  to  Augusta  ? 

All  roads  led  to  our  little  city.  As  the  traveler  even  of  this  day 
still  occasionally  encounters  the  old  Roman  milestone  in  ever}'  part 
of  Europe,  with  the  Roman  inscription  “S.  P.  Q.  R.,”  “Senatus 
populusque  Romanus,”  reminds  us  of  the  time  when  all  roads  led  to 
Imperial  Rome,  so  throughout  the  region  I have  sketched  all  the 
mile  stones,  to  have  their  truest  significance,  should  have  marked 
the  distance  to  Augusta — Augusta  on  the  Savannah. 

Where  could  the  cotton  come  except  here?  Why  must  it,  of 
necessity,  under  the  conditions  of  that  age,  come  hither  ? Oh,  the 
river,  the  river  ! Our  Thames,  our  Tiber,  our  Nile  ! It  beckoned 
it  to  its  banks  and  solicited  it  to  embark  on  its  bosom.  Here,  then, 
it  was  in  fact  collected.  Hence,  in  the  first  years  of  this  century, 
in  flat  boats  and  barges,  and  later  by  steamboats,  it  was  floated 
down  the  river  to  Savannah,  where  it  found  itself  at  the  gateway  of 
the  outer  world.  So  already  at  the  commencement  of  the  century 
one  hundred  thousand  bales  of  cotton  found  a market  in  Augusta, 
and  one  hundred  thousand  bales  represented  then  many  times  the 
amount  of  money  enclosed  in  the  same  number  now. 

This  period  was  Augusta’s  most  prosperous.  Without  rivals, 
without  competitors,  she  collected  ■ on  the  banks  of  her  fostering 
river  the  wealth  producing  crop  of  a vast  tributary,  and  gathered 
in  its  magnificent  proceeds.  For  the  boats,  at  first  barges  and  flat- 
boats,  and  then  several  distinct  fleets  of  steamboats,  which  took  the 
cotton  to  the  port,  brought  back  the  hardware,  the  groceries,  the 
dry  goods,  the  furniture,  in  a word  all  the  necessaries  and  luxuries 
of  life  of  that  age,  for  consumption  in  that  extensive  back  country, 
from  which  the  cotton  was  drawn.  The  wagons  which  brought  the 
staple  to  Augusta,  marched  back  with  the  same  merry  chimes,  laden 
with  the  merchandise  I have  mentioned  for  the  use  of  the  producers 
of  the  cotton — master  and  slave — in  the  interior.  How  easy  then 
for  the  merchant  of  Augusta  to  grow  rich.  It  is  true  the  one 
thousand  per  cent,  profit  of  the  Indian  trader  was  a thing  of  the 
past.  Even  the  three  or  four  hundred  per  cent,  of  an  earlier  gen- 
eration of  Augusta  merchants  had  ceased.  Still  his  profits  were 
very  large.  And  they  came  so  easily.  How  little  of  wear  and 
tear  was  in  his  life  ! How  different  from  the  strain  on  the  faculties 
of  the  business  man  of  this  day  ! His  at  first  weekly,  then  semi- 


II 


weekly  mail  was  received.  It  was  then  his  business  to  write  in 
reply  a few  of  those  formal,  ceremonious,  stilted  letters  of  the 
period,-  which  he  subscribed;  “With  great  esteem  and  distin- 
guished consideration,  I have  the  honor  to  be  your  obedient,  humble 
servant.”  This  done  with  great  deliberation,  not  to  say  solemnity, 
and  the  letters  turned  over  to  a clerk  to  be  copied  by  hand,  there 
was  nothing  to  make  even  a ripple  of  excitement  in  the  business 
life  of  your  solid  merchant  of  that  age  until  the  arrival  of  the  next 
weekly  and  semi-weekly  mail.  Our  tormentors,  the  three  or  four 
daily  mail  deliveries,  and  those  fiends  of  modern  life,  the  telephone, 
the  telegraph  and  the  ‘ ‘ticker,  ’ ’ afflicted  him  not.  What  steadiness  of 
nerve,  what  sweetness  of  temper,  ought  not  your  merchant  of  that 
time  to  have  had  ! What  piety,  too,  for  with  his  leisurely,  easy 
going  life,  he  could  attend  church  Sunday,  and  was  not  obliged  to 
make  that  day  one  of  literal  and  absolute  rest  of  body  and  brain  to 
repair  the  ravages  of  six  days  of  physical  and  mental  tension.  The 
fortunes  of  that  period  are  in  a large  measure  what  Augusta  is 
living  on  at  this  day.  The  struggles  of  these  later  times  have  been 
considered  successful  if  they  have  been  able  to  keep  the  accumula- 
tions of  that  period  from  being  worn  away  by  the  attrition  of  many 
years  of  ‘ 1 hard  times.  ’ ’ 

The  next  period  of  Augusta’s  history  I shall  call  “ The  Manufac- 
turing Age.”  The  immediately  preceding  period,  which  I have 
just  been  speaking  of  as  the  “ Cotton  Age,”  was  not  only  the 
time  of  Augusta’s  greatest  prosperity  to  her  own  people,  but  also 
of  her  greatest  relative  importance  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  At 
that  time  she  dominated  commercially  a wide  territory,  in  which 
she  found  not  a single  rival.  She  possessed  in  the  Savannah  river 
a magnificent  highway  of  the  only  kind  then  used  for  heavy  traffic, 
between  herself  and  the  outer  world.  In  the  last  quarter  of  that 
period,  it  is  true  that  a new  kind  of  highway,  one,  as  the  future 
was  to  show,  of  stupendous  potentialities,  was  extended  to  her 
doors  from  the  sea.  I refer  to  the  old  South  Carolina  railroad. 
But  this  rathei  added  to  than  subtracted  from  Augusta’s  relative 
importance;  it  diverted  no  commerce  from  her,  and  it  increased  the 
facilities  of  that  which  she  already  had. 

But  all  this  was  soon  to  change.  About  1840  the  Georgia  rail- 
road became  a potent  factor  in  Augusta’s  history.  Its  tendency, 
so  long  as  it  was  merely  a local  road,  extending  100  miles  or  so  into 
the  interior,  was  not  so  much  to  bring  trade  to  Augusta— for  that 


12 


trade  already  came  by  the  wagon  roads — as  to  build  up  rival 
markets  in  the  interior.  Moreover,  Macon,  Columbus, --Athens  and 
other  places  in  the  interior  began  to  divide  with  her  the  commerce 
of  a back  country,  which  was  once  all  her  own  tributary  province. 
I shall  not  dwell  tediously  on  this  evolution  of  a new7  situation. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  relative,  if  not  absolute,  decline  of  Augusta 
wras  apparent.  At  this  time  thoughtful  and  public  spirited  citizens 
realized  the  fact  that  something  must  be  done  to  invigorate  her 
languishing  life.  The  scheme  which  commended  itself  to  them  was 
the  construction  of  a canal  to  furnish  water  powrer  for  manufactur- 
ing purposes.  The  result  vTas  the  old  Augusta  canal,  constructed 
between  1845  and  1847.  This  project  did  not  at  first  meet  wfith 
unanimous  approval.  Respectable  and  conscientious  citizens 
opposed  it  on  honest  grounds  of  public  policy.  I shall  not  w7eary 
you  with  the  details  of  that  struggle.  I shall  not  even  pause, 
though  sorely  tempted  to  do  so,  to  say  a few  words  of  affectionate 
eulogy  of  that  private  citizen,  the  originator  and  master  spirit  of  the 
enterprise,  who  in  the  midst  of  an  exacting  professional  practice, 
and  with  the  cares  of  a large  family,  gave,  as  president  of  the  Board 
of  Canal  Commissioners,  several  years  out  of  the  prime  of  his  life 
to  unselfish  and  gratuitous  devotion  to  this  public  w7ork.  This  old 
canal  was  a slight  affair  compared  with  the  present  w7ork,  wThich 
was  brought  up  from  its  former  small  estate  to  its  present  magnifi- 
cent proportions,  under  the  administration  as  Mayor  and  largel}7  by 
the  wise  measures  of  our  venerable  fellow  citizen,  Mr.  Charles  Estes, 
who  still  abides  with  us.  Neither  wras  the  first  effort  at  manufacturing 
on  the  canal  successful,  but  it  failed  not  from  any  inherent  error  in 
the  general  idea  of  making  Augusta  a manufacturing  centre,  and  the 
failure  brought  no  discouragement  to  this  aspiration.  The  old  canal 
accomplished  its  purpose.  It  directed  the  business  thought  of  Augusta 
into  an  additional  channel.  Previously  nothing  was  considered  but 
commerce.  Naturally,  for  trade  had  made  Augusta  one  of  the  most 
favored  places  in  the  country.  When  that  trade  began  unmistakably 
to  withdraw7  from  her,  it  is  not  strange  that  she  became  alarmed  and 
felt  the  forebodings  of  death.  But  since  the  advent  of  the  Manu- 
facturing Age  a new  stream  of  life  has  been  coursing  through  her 
veins. 

The  next  period  in  the  history  of  Augusta  was  “ The  War  Age.” 
Short  it  w7as,  compared  with  the  shortest  of  other  periods,  but  not 
to  be  measured  by  its  duration  in  years  as  to  the  place  it  will  hold  in 


13 


her  history.  It  is  true  that  Augusta,  unlike  in  this  respect  many 
Southern  towns,  knew  not  the  actual  tramp  of  hostile  armies;  but 
she  knew  and  felt  the  exultation  and  the  bitterness  of  "war  in  every 
other  aspect  of  the  dreadful  scourge.  How  glorious,  too,  is  her  war 
record!  Of  the  military  companies  forming  her  volunteer  battalion 
in  the  peace  time  preceding  the  war,  the  Clinch  Rifles,  the  Ogle- 
thorpe Infantry,  the  Irish  Volunteers,  the  Richmond  Hussars,  the 
Washington  Artillery,  all  went  promptly  to  the  field  with  full  ranks 
and  took  their  places  in  the  earliest  organizations  of  the  Confederacy. 
But  these  old  and  already  historic  companies  were  but  a fraction  of 
those  which  Augusta  sent  to  that  great  conflict.  There  were  at  least 
ten  other  companies  which  came  into  life  with  that  crisis.  All  these 
were  at  “ the  front,”  and  most  of  them  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  the  struggle.  That  meant  that  there  were  men  constantly 
falling  in  their  ranks  and  new  men  going  to  take  their  places.  Be- 
sides this,  not  a few  young  men  of  Augusta  for  one  reason  and 
another  joined  military  organizations  elsewhere.  I think  I am  safely 
within  bounds  when  I say  that  first  and  last  Augusta  sent  two  thou- 
sand of  her  sons  to  the  battlefield.  How  many  of  these  were  num- 
bered among  the  “ unreturning  brave!”  How  many  returned  only 
on  their  shields! 

But  that  was  not  all.  There  was  the  front  and  there  was  the  rear. 
There  was  the  field  where  the  men  battled,  and  there  was  the  home 
where  the  women  waited.  There  were  the  brave  hearts  in  the  camps, 
and  the  aching  hearts  by  the  firesides — not  in  a few  homes,  but  in' 
all.  - There  were  mingled  sorrow  and  pride,  grief  and  joy — sorrow 
for  the  fallen,  pride  for  the  hero.  Grief  for  the  death  of  dear  ones, 
joy  for  their  glorious  memory!  We  who  are  still  living  and  were 
living  then  know  that  that  was  the  period  of  Augusta’s  highest  as 
well  as  intensest  life.  We  know  that  that  was  the  time  when  the 
sordid,  the  selfish,  the  commercial  in  us  was  subdued  by  our  higher 
nature.  While  we  live  we  can  attest  with  our  tongues  the  nobility 
of  Augusta  in  her  war  period.  But  in  a few  more  mornings  such 
witnesses  will  have  taken  on  the  silence  of  the  tomb.  Well  then  is 
it  that  enduring  monuments  commemorate  that  period  of  Augusta’s 
history.'  They  will  ever  be  her  most  glorious  memorials.  As  the 
stately  shaft  in  her  principal  thoroughfare  towering  heavenward  is 
the  loftiest  of  all  her  monuments,  so  it  marks  the  culmination  of  her 
spiritual  life.  In  the  time  to  come  great  railroad  systems  may  rear 
huge  habitations  for  themselves  on  her  soil.  Successful  commerce 


14 


may  build  themselves  palatial  exchanges  within  her  borders.  Learn- 
ing may  here  construct  for  itself  some  vast  temple,  dedicated  to 
books  and  science.  Religion  itself  may  here  uprear  ostentatious 
fanes.  But  while  God  and  man  rate  the  spiritual  above  the  material, 
self-sacrifice  above  self-indulgence,  duty  above  success,  so  long  will 
the  private  soldier  of  the  Confederacy,  fronting  the  eternal  east  from 
the  top  of  that  noble  column,  be  a type  and  a memento  of  Augusta’s 
highest  life.  Spare  it  ye  forces  of  nature!  Disturb  it  not,  thou 
dreadful  earthquake!  Pass  it  by,  ye  destroying  cyclone!  Blast  it 
not,  thou  deadly  lightning!  Touch  it  not,  ye  frosts,  with  insidious 
fingers!  Guard  it,  ye  spirits  of  air  and  earth,  that  it  may  speak  to 
distant  ages  of  Augusta’s  noblest  and  highest  life! 

But  one  other  period  remains — -the  period  stretching  from  the  close 
of  the  war  to  the  present  day — which  I shall  call  “ The  Iron  Age.” 
Primarily  I so  denominate  it  for  the  reason  that  it  is  the  period  when 
the  iron  road  has  become  a tremendous  factor,  an  upbuilder  or  de- 
stroyer, in  the  history  of  towns  and  cities.  Augusta,  like  all  other 
industrial  centres,  has  felt  the  influence  of  this  force,  whose  enor- 
mous development  is  a thing  of  this  post  bellum  period.  I make 
bold  to  believe  that  that  influence  has  been  on  the  whole  beneficial 
to  Augusta.  I cannot  explain  her  steady  and  satisfactory  growth 
on  a contrary  supposition.  But  I would  not  discuss  that  intricate 
question  on  an  occasion  like  this.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  she  has  be- 
come and  is  a very  important  railroad  centre,  from  which  distribution 
can  be  made  in  all  directions,  inward  and  outward,  to  the  land  and 
to  the  sea. 

But  I have  called  this  period  “ The  Iron  Age  ” for  another  reason. 
There  has  ever  been  among  the  myths  of  the  human  race  a belief  in 
a golden  age.  The  characteristics  of  that  mythical  period  are  ease 
and  plenty,  love  and  peace,  life  blessed  with  good  things  acquired 
without  effort,  and  crowned  with  tranquil  happiness.  Those  same 
traditions  have  ever  taken  note  also  of  an  “ Iron  Age.”  That  age 
has  always  been  the  then  present.  The  dwellers  in  every  period 
have  regarded  it  as  an  iron  age.  Pressed  with  the  hard  con- 
ditions, the  bitter  struggles  of  life,  they  have  been  prone  to  regard 
the  past  and  the  future  as  more  to  be  desired  than  the  present. 
Their  thought  has  been:  Life  was  easy  in  the  past;  it  will  be  happy 
in  the  future.  In  the  past  it  was  golden  in  its  beauty  and  excel- 
lence. Now  it  is  iron  in  its  hardness. 

Very  justly,  1 think,  we  may  call  this  latest  period  of  Augusta’s 


15 


history  ail  iron  age  in  a business  sense  as  compared  in  the  same 
sense  with  the  golden  past.  The  struggle  for  business  success  in 
these  latter  times  has  been  severe.  The  conditions,  - not  merely 
locally  but  generally,  have  been  unfavorable.  Notwithstanding,  to 
her  credit  be  it  said,  she  has  gone  ahead.  She  has' taken  no  step 
backward,  but  many  forward.  She  has  grown,  and  she  has  taken  to 
herself  in  nearly  every  particular  the  fruits  of  a progressive  civili- 
zation. But  why  should  I prolong  this  already  too  tedious  discourse 
by  speaking  of  this  phase  of  her  history  to  those  who  not  only  know 
it,  but  have  made  it  ? 

Thus,  with  no  design  on  my  part  to  distribute  Augusta’s  life  up 
to  the  present  hour  into  seven  ages,  like  Shakespeare’s  division  of 
man’s  life,  I find  that  it  has  naturally  and  of  itself  fallen  into  those 
parts.  And  now,  one  lingering  look  backward  and  I am  done. 

We  dwellers  in  this  age,  looking  over  this  relatively  long  period, 
have  just  grounds,  as  citizens  of  Augusta,  to  be  gratified  at  the 
retrospect.  From  the  day  she  came  into  life,  an  isolated  outpost  of 
the  white  race,  a speck  of  civilization  in  the  wilderness,  down  to  the 
present  hour,  her  course  has  been  respectable,  honest,  honorable. 
True,  no  brilliant  “ boom  ” period  with  its  inevitable  reaction  finds 
a place  in  her  history.  But  her  progress  has  been  steady  and  her 
advance  always  held  nullum  vestigium  retrosum.  The  little  settle- 
ment at  the  head  of  navigation,  perched  on  the  very  bank  of  its 
river  of  life,  has  gradually  spread  far  and  wide  over  the  adjacent 
plain  and  climbed  the  sides  of  its  circumscribing  hills.  In  the  bitter 
times  of  war,  she  has  risen  heroically  to  the  fullest  measure  of  patri- 
otic duty.  In  the  long  periods  of  blessed  peace  she  has  been  con- 
spicuous for  her  civic  virtues — the  chiefest  of  which  are  law  and 
order  and  financial  integrity.  Of  these,  she  now  reaps  the  rich  re- 
ward in  credit  unsurpassed  and  in  respect  unfeigned.  In  time  of 
pestilence,  which  has  twice  visited  her  habitations,  she  has  had  the 
fortitude  for  the  trial  and  has  uttered  no  cry  for  help.  When  swept 
by  devastating  floods,  she  has  found  in  her  own  stout  heart  and  in 
her  own  reserved  resources,  strength  to  meet  the  ordeal,  and  has  de- 
clined, not  churlishly  but  proudly,  all  proffered  assistance  from  with- 
out. All  this  she  has  done  without  the  blare  of  trumpets  or  the 
beating  of  drums  or  the  waving  of  flags.  Quiet,  self-contained  and 
self-sufficient,  she  has  maintained  her  steady  way  onward  and  up- 
ward. Our  fathers  and  our  fathers’  fathers  planted  wisely,  and  if 
from  that  far  shore  whither  they  went  long  since,  their  vision  could 


i6 


revert  to  this  time  and  this  expansion  of  their  work,  they  would 
know  that  those  who  came  after  them  have  been  true  to  their  trust 
and  their  opportunities. 

Why,  then,  should  I withhold  high  sounding  words  in  speaking 
of  Augusta?  Why  should  I hesitate  and  falter  at  the  epithet 
“ great?”  Wherein  consists  the  greatness  of  a city  ? Not  in  popu- 
lation. Athens,  the  light  of  whose  greatness  in  art  and  arms  shines 
on  and  on  down  ages,  would  have  been  engulfed  in  the  population 
of  any  of  a thousand  cities  of  inglorious  Cathay.  Sparta  and  Thebes, 
great  and  immortal,  how  slender  were  they  in  population!  Rome 
was  already  great  when  her  citizens  were  less  numerous  than  our 
own.  It  is  the  quality  not  the  number  of  citizens  that  makes  the 
greatness  of  a city.  The  patriotic  in  war — the  law  abiding  and  honest 
in  peace — the  constant  in  adversity — on  these  firm  foundations  is 
built  a city’s  greatness. 

Then,  oh,  Augusta,  strong  in  this  test,  call  thyself  “Great.”  For 
once  sound  a loud  trumpet,  blow  a clear  clarion  blast  to  the  world, 
proclaiming  in  tones  not  to  be  challenged  thy  real  merits.  And  hope 
for  thyself — aye,  secure  for  thyself — excellence  in  all  the  time  to 
come.  X'J  My  people  are  of  the  same  blood  and  lineage  as  of  old.  Civic 
virtue  is  prized  as  much  now  as  in  the  days  of  our  fathers.  The  soil 
that  nourished  them  is  equally  generous  to  us.  The  atmosphere  in 
which  they  lived  lives  of  industry  and  usefulness,  many  of  them 
through  four  score  years,  plays  about  your  heads.  The  same  benefi- 
cent sky  bends  over  us.  And  our  river!  With  it  my  story  began, 
and  with  it  will  end.  Oh,  our  river!  Shorn  of  much  of  thy  pristine 
beauty,  thou  art  strong  and  beneficent  still,  thou  great  and  lordly 
Savannah ! Thou  everlasting  traveler  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea, 
didst  lure  the  little  Augusta  to  nestle  on  thy  banks.  Here  thou 
didst  nourish  her  infancy.  Thou  didst  give  her  strength  as  she 
grew.  In  time  thou  didst  bring  her  wealth.  Thou  art  still  benefi- 
cent to  her,  furnishing  her  drink,  for  her  fighting  the  fire  fiend,  for 
her  turning  the  wheels  of  her  factories.  Let  no  man  think  thou  art 
not  also  still  the  guardian  and  protector  of  her  commerce,  not  dead 
but  sleeping.  At  any  threat  of  danger  to  her  prosperity,  thou  mayst 
awake  and,  as  of  old,  show  to  thy  beloved  city  how  powerful  thou 
canst  be  in  her  behalf.  For  thy  God-built  highway  all  the  works  of 
puny  man  are  impotent  to  abolish  or  annul.  Augusta’s  fostering 
river  still  flows  by  her  gates  and  will  do  so  forever.  Labitur  et 
labetur  in  omne  volubilis  sevum. 


